


Epiphanies

by Lovecomesinattheeyes



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11947671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovecomesinattheeyes/pseuds/Lovecomesinattheeyes
Summary: I truly believe that the tension that D&D and GoT is trying to allude to between Dany and Jon will end up being resolved fairly quickly. This is how I imagine it.





	1. Royal Arrival

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Epifanías](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960505) by [MaryposaSnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryposaSnow/pseuds/MaryposaSnow)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King in the North arrives in Winterfell with the Dragon Queen and are received by the Stark family. A discovery of lineage is uncovered and plans are made.

Sansa POV

Winterfell is bursting with activity at the impending arrival of the King in the North and his new ally. Sansa stands in the courtyard, waiting to receive her brother and the Dragon Queen. Arya stands next to her, and while Sansa can see Arya is putting up a cool exterior, she knows that her sister is excited to see their brother Jon again.

A horn blows from on the rampart and she listens for the sound of hooves. She hears the hasty trot of a horse approaching and she wrings her hands together. She wonders how her brother will react to the news of Lord Baelish’s death.

The guards stand at attention as her brother, looking so much like their Lord Father comes into view. He sits atop his black destrier, every bit like a King and she smiles. She peaks a look at Arya whose face has finally cracked with glee and when Jon sees his little sister he too grins widely.

“Arya!” He cries out joyously as he jumps quickly off his steed. Arya runs to him and they meet somewhere in the middle, his strong arms lifting her up and spinning her around like a rag doll.

“Gods, you’ve grown.” Jon holds Arya by the shoulders, inspecting her affectionately. “You still have Needle?!” He points to the thin sword at her hip.

“Of course I do!” She beams, “I wouldn’t have gotten back here if it hadn’t been for Needle.”

“That’s new.” He ponders as he looks at the wicked Valyrian steel dagger she has sheathed on her other hip. “Is that the blade that slit the traitors throat?” His voice lowers and upon Arya’s nod he squeezes her shoulder and pulls her to Sansa, hugging them both and whispering so only they can hear. “You three served justice for our father. He and your mother would be proud of you. I’m so proud of you.” He kisses each of their foreheads before stepping back.

It’s then that Sansa notices the silver haired Queen, sitting astride a white and gray mare. She recalls the words Petyr Baelish had told her not a week prior, ‘I hear rumors that the Dragon Queen is very beautiful’. Sansa sees now that the rumors were true. She is petite, yet she carries herself with a confidence and a fierceness that is palpable. The Queen’s eyes are locked on their family embrace and she smiles softly.

Jon glances back at the Queen and a look passes between the two. It’s apparent that an affection has grown between the King in the North and this Dragon Queen. Sansa keeps herself composed as the Queen quickly dismounts her horse. Jon reaches a hand to the Targaryen female and she steps forward, grasping it.

“Arya, Sansa,” He addresses his sisters, “I would like to introduce you to Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.” Sansa curtsies as is custom of a Lady, Arya bows like a Knight. “Your Grace.” They both say in unison.

“Thank you for having me in your home. I look forward to strengthening our alliance.” She says, her voice is soft but firm and she has a foreign accent. Jon turns to the Maester.

“Please summon all the Lords in Winterfell to the Great Hall.” The Maester nods and departs. Sansa’s stomach knots. Is he going to pronounce his intention to bend the knee to this woman in front of all their bannermen? As his first act upon coming into the door? Sansa curses the Gods for giving her a brother that is so blind to his honor it borders on foolish.  
“Brother, perhaps we can meet in private to discuss a couple of matters while the Northern Lords gather?”

“Aye,” Jon nods. “Queen Daenerys will join us though.” Sansa turns, slightly peeved at her brother’s new devotion to his Queen. Normally Sansa would wait on the rest of the royal procession to arrive before seeing to matters of business, but quite frankly there’s no time for formalities. The group marches through the castle to the quiet of the Lord’s Chambers. Sansa pushes open the door and stands at the entrance, allowing her Brother and the Queen to lead the way into the small room. She enters after them and Arya closes the door. Bran is sitting in his chair next to the fire, a kind looking man sits next to him.

“Bran!” Another joyous grin spreads across Jon’s face. “Sam!?”

“Hello Jon!” Samwell Tarly’s awkward grin grows and he stands, embracing his former brother of the Night’s Watch. Jon turns and bends down, kissing his younger brother’s forehead. Sansa again peeks at the Queen, a small smile on her lips and a soft sadness in her eyes. She has no siblings. She is alone in the world. Sansa feels a twinge of sorrow for her and decides to give Daenerys a chance to prove herself a just and noble Queen before she dismisses her.

“Jon, we have something to tell you.“ Bran’s eyes flick to the Queen and back to Jon.

“Can it wait? I must make an announcement.” Jon asks as he stands next to the Queen. Sansa notes the close proximity of the two. “I plan to bend the knee to Queen Daenerys.”

“Jon,” Sansa cuts in. “I don’t think the Lords of the North will like that. The history of The Starks and The Targaryens is long and bloody. The North Remembers.” Her voice is a warning.

“Aye, but the Long Night is upon us. Surely, we don’t have time for the wars of our Fathers to determine how we continue to act towards one another in the future.” Jon’s cool face begins to shift to his normal brooding one.

“Perhaps not, but you know the stubbornness of Northerners.” Sansa answers. “When the Army of the Dead is destroyed, do you think these Lords will just accept her as their Queen?” She locks eyes with the foreign beauty and notes her calm demeanor.

The door opens behind them, Tyrion Lannister and Davos Seaworth walk in. “I see my invitation was lost.” Tyrion half jokes as he enters the chambers, closing the door behind him. “As Hand of the Queen, I insist on being part of these small council meetings.”

“Apologies my Lord.” Daenerys answers. “We were just discussing the intricacies of how to tell the Northern Lords that Jon intends to bend the knee.” Her familiarity piques Sansa’s interest. Jon? Not King Jon… Not His Grace… Just Jon?

“Ah,” Tyrion nods before turning to look up at Sansa. “Hello Lady Sansa.” He smiles at her, reaching his hand out. She takes it and he touches his forehead to her knuckles. “I have informed your brother that our marriage was a sham and that while the words were said for the sake of appearances, it remained unconsummated. The Queen has agreed not to acknowledge the Union.” Sansa is immediately relieved that there is one more thing she doesn’t have to worry about, but also a little sad. Tyrion had always been the kindest and most honorable of the Lannisters. It wasn’t saying much, but she had a special fondness for protecting her in his own way.

“Thank you, My Lord Hand.” Sansa answers nodding at him. Tyrion smiles sadly up at her and stops to give his respects to Arya.

“Why Arya, you look much more lethal than you did as a young girl.”

“If only you knew,” She smirks at him and Tyrion’s eyes widen. He shakes his head as if trying to remove a disturbing thought and his eyes rest on Bran.

“That is a good way to get around.” He admires. “Beats being carried by the half giant.”

“Hodor is dead.” Bran answers emotionless.

“My goodness, you Starks are an interesting lot.” He huffs as he takes a seat. “In terms of King Jon bending the knee… I recommend it.”

“I do not.” Sansa rebuts.

“There are further issues at hand,” Bran interrupts in his eerie tone. “Jon, there is something you must know.” He looks around at the other faces and then to Daenerys.

“Perhaps it best we let him know alone?” Sam suggests.

A look of confusion crosses Jon’s face. “Anything you would tell me you can say in front of everyone in this room.”  
“Jon…” Sam pleads softly. “I really don’t think-“

“Tell me here.” Jon commands. Sam looks back at Bran whose eyes meet Jon’s again.

“By bending the knee, you are giving up your birth right.” A confusion crosses everyone’s faces at Bran’s admission.

“How’s that?” Jon asks dumbly.

“Jon,” Sam stands, “You are the heir to the Iron Throne.” All eyes are on Jon and a small smile breaks his face. Daenerys looks confused, her eyes flicking from Jon to Bran to Sam and back to Jon.

“I’m a bastard of Eddard Stark and now is not the time for jokes.” Jon answers.

“You are not my true half-brother.” Bran answers icily. “Your mother was my Aunt Lyanna.” A collective inhale from everyone in the room tenses the moment. Jon’s expression darkens and he narrows his eyes.

“Where are you getting this information?” Jon challenges.

“I saw it. In my visions. Father came to save your mother at the Tower of Joy in Dorne. There he discovered his beloved sister lying in a bed of blood. She was dying as her handmaidens placed you in his arms. In her last moments, she made our Lord Father promise to protect you, to raise you as one of his own.” Jon sways a bit on the spot and he reaches his hand out to clasp the back of a chair to steady himself. The Silver Queen watches him, concern and disbelief etched on her pretty face.

“How does that make him the heir to the throne?” Daenerys’ voice breaks the long moment of silence.

“I can answer that Your Grace.” Sam steps forward, his eyes meeting the floor. “You see Lyanna was betrothed to Robert Baratheon, but her heart belonged to another.” He looks up at her. “Your brother, Rhaegar.” Daenerys looks at him narrowing her eyes in skepticism.

“My brother was married to Elia of Dorne. Even if him and Lyanna were in love and Jon were a product of that, it still makes him a bastard.”

“Uhh,” Sam’s voice shakes. “Not exactly. High Septon Maynard kept a diary and while I was at the Citadel, I came across an entry wherein he recorded that he provided Rhaegar with an annulment from Elia of Dorne and performed a secret ceremony to wed Lyanna and Rhaegar.”

The wind is knocked from the room, a suffocating silence falls on them all.

“So that means…” Davos begins as he points from Sam to Jon to Daenerys.

“That we seem to be standing in the presence of two Targaryens.” Tyrion answers.

Daenerys’ calm demeanor breaks and she turns to Sam, a fiery rage directed at him. “I’m confused, are you calling me a liar? Or are you simply trying to refute my claim so that you can support Jon’s?” A fury has awoken in her and she turns to Jon. “Tell me you did not plan this.” Her face is unreadable as her back is turned to the room. Jon looks up at her.

He stares at her blankly for a moment, a mixture of emotions crossing his face before he snaps, his hands rip the chair he had been using to steady himself and throws it against the wall, shattering it to pieces. “I don’t want any bloody throne! I’ve never wanted to be a leader! I never wanted to be a King! I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS!” He stands, hackles raised, hands fisted, he’s shaking and his face is contorted in a flurry of emotions.

Daenerys’ shoulders relax at his sudden outburst. Everyone’s eyes are glued to the pair, hardly a breath passing between them. She steps forward, unphased by his obvious rage and places a hand on his cheek, bringing her eyes to meet his. A look passes between the two of them. 

“Blood of my blood.” She whispers softly and he closes his eyes, taking short gasping breaths as tears begin to stream down his face. She pulls him to her and he melts into her embrace, burying his face in her shoulder, his body shaking from his silent sobs. His arms grip her to him tightly, her hands softly embrace his head and shoulders. Sansa suddenly feels as if she is intruding.

She looks around and everyone has their eyes diverted from the pair except for Tyrion. His eyes are glued to the two and Sansa can tell that his mind is already formulating. He looks at Sansa and it’s as if they arrive at the conclusion at the same time.

“Gods are cruel beings.” Tyrion’s whisper cuts through the tense silence. “Jon, I understand you are in pain. I understand that you have been lied to and that you may not know exactly what all this means right now. But in the past months I have seen a truth in your eyes. You are in love with Queen Daenerys.” The two separate suddenly, both looking at Tyrion with tears in their eyes. “And she feels the same.” A blush rises to Daenerys’ cheeks and she wipes the tears away. “You were fated to meet. Maybe even fated to love. This knowledge of your true parentage needs never leave this room.” Tyrion looks from person to person, all nod in agreeance. “But your love is undeniable. Use it. Ally yourselves by marriage. Let it strengthen the North. Let it solidify the bond between Stark and Targaryen.”

Sansa steps forward. “I agree with Lord Tyrion. I was going to suggest as much upon your arrival, these new epiphanies only support that idea further. The Northern Lords may not submit to a Southern Queen, but they would submit to this. They would see the advantage of the King in The North ruling from the Iron Throne together with the Dragon Queen.”

A silence falls on the chamber again and Jon turns to Daenerys. She mirrors his movement and they gaze into one  
another’s eyes. Something shifts between the two. He brings his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs grazing her plump lips as his forehead rests upon hers. She grips the furs on his chest and takes an unsteady breath.

“Is this what you want?” He asks softly. She pulls back slightly and looks into his dark eyes. “Because if so, the throne is yours. My heart is yours. My life is yours.” He whispers and again Sansa feels as if she is intruding.

“I-“ Daenerys’ voice threatens to break and a gasping breath is all she can manage. She collects herself and swallows thickly. “I never expected to meet you. I never expected this to happen. I never expected a chance at happiness. But yes, I want this. I want you by my side, ruling, together.” Jon’s face radiates a warmth that Sansa has never seen before and in a second Daenerys’ smile seems to brighten the dark room of Winterfell.

Their lips meet in a heated kiss and everyone diverts their eyes again. Jon and Daenerys are consumed in one another for a few moments, neither caring that they have an audience. Their passionate exchange ends in ragged breaths and flushed cheeks. They kiss softly once more before separating.

“Then the decision is made?” Tyrion asks as the sexual tension in the room lessens.

“Shall we tell the Northmen?” Sansa adds.

Jon and Daenerys glance once more at each other. “Aye,” Jon says never breaking his gaze from his future Queen. “Let’s introduce the North to its new Queen.”


	2. Northern Lords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking the news of a marital alliance to Northern Lords is only the first of many hurdles for the young couple to cross.

**Dany POV**

For a moment, she thought that Sam and Bran were joking. When it became clear they were not, she realized the gravity of the revelation. That her claim to the throne was slipping. Jon’s inability to lie and the outburst that ensued in him learning of his true parents had convinced her that this was real. He had sworn to bend the knee and he was doing so, even if what he was offering was more than just loyalty. She had considered offering marriage to this Northern Fool a few times. But now that it was happening, there was a lightness in her chest that she didn’t know she could feel.

She forces her eyes away from Jon’s. She could get lost in his gaze, but there is business to attend to. Their mission to convince the Northern Houses to accept her is too important.

“Shall we?” Sansa asks, beckoning to the door back to the Great Hall.

Dany goes to take a step toward the door but Jon’s hand pulls her back. “Give us a moment everyone. I need to speak with Daenerys alone. We will join you shortly.”

“Jon,” She goes to argue but the look of desperation in his eyes silences her. She turns to look back at the rest of the faces and nods at them. They begin to shuffle out and Jon’s shoulders relax slightly. Once the door closes he pulls her to his chest.

“Dany,” The rough and desperate way he says her name has her walls of composure crumbling. “Are you okay?”

She angles her head to look up at him and with this new knowledge his dark eyes look a little more silver than they did grey. Her cool façade breaks and she nods her head. “I’m not alone anymore.”

He gasps and kisses her softly. “You will never be alone again so long as my heart beats.”

Her smile brightens a little more. “A dragon raised in a family of wolves,” She ponders as she runs her hand along his face.

“You are my family now too.” His hands squeeze her middle.

“Ah yes, you being Rhaegar’s son would make me your Aunt. Does that change your carnal desires for me?” She grins at him playfully.

“There are worse familial bedfellows.” Jon shrugs thinking of Craster and his wives or Jaime and Cersei.

“Are you disappointed? Not being Ned’s son?” She asks softly. He drops her hand and looks down, sighing softly as he considers his answer.

“I’ll always be Ned’s son.” He admits. “He was the one who raised me, taught me what it means to be a Stark. He loved me as his own and treated me with respect. He will always be a part of me and nothing will change that. I may have Targaryen blood, but I still have Stark blood too.”

Dany nods. Her day has completely upended. She came here looking for a successful military alliance and now she’s found a blood relation in a man she’s already in love with. Not to mention, this man has just agreed to become her husband. Pieces of her life have just fallen into place and she can’t help the swell of love that bubbles into her. She pulls Jon’s lips to hers again and pours as much gratitude and devotion as she can into their last moments alone before they announce to a bunch of Northern men why a marriage between them is a good idea.

Jon disengages from her lips and smiles before they make their way to the door. He takes a deep breath, resetting his disposition before he walks through into The Hall.

A cacophony of voices assaults her ears. “Where is the King? Where is this so called Dragon Queen? I don’t see any dragons! Are we expected to-“ As Jon walks, in the room goes silent.

“My Lords.” He says as he stands behind Sansa’s chair.

Dany feels eyes shift from him to her as she walks into the room behind him. Standing off to the side she slowly looks around, perusing the reactions to her. Most men seem to have the usual slack jawed gazes she’s accustomed to seeing. A small girl, standing before a bunch of hard looking men catches Dany’s eye. The girl has a sour look to her face and Daenerys wonders who she is fleetingly before Jon begins speaking again.

“As you can see, I’ve returned with someone. This is-“ He’s cut off by Missandei as she strides through the room with Jorah Mormont and Varys flanking her.

“Daenerys Stormborm of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Realm, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Mother of Dragons, The Unburnt, Breaker of Chains and Lady of Dragonstone.” As she finishes the long string of titles she comes to stand next to Daenerys, her arms clasped in front of her. Jorah takes his place to Daenerys’ other side and Varys stands slightly behind Missandei.

What begins as low grumblings grow in volume until Jon cuts in again “She has given us dragonglass. Loads of it. Enough for every capable man and woman in our armies to have weapons made.”

“Aye and she’ll turn her dragons on us the second the Army of the Dead have been destroyed!” A voice in the back shouts.

“She will not!” Jon urges them to stay quiet. “In the weeks I’ve spent with The Queen, I’ve come to see her as just, honorable and fair. I’ve spoken to her closest Advisors, to her servants, to her warriors. All admire her and have proved that they are willing to follow her no matter where she may lead them.”

“Aye but it’s easy to lead when you don’t know what’s waiting for ye in the darkness!” A Lord from the Vale chimes in.

“If you are referring to the Night King and his Army.” Daenerys steps forward. “I have seen them. All hundred thousand creatures with their bright blue eyes and the skin dangling from their corpse like frames. I have been North of the Wall, and I have promised your King that we will defeat the wight walkers.” Hushed voices scatter through the room like leaves before they become more forceful once again.

“For claiming to be a Mother of Dragons, you seem to be missing these beasts you birthed.” The small girl with the sour look stands and before Daenerys can respond the girl speaks again. “Hello Jorah. The last you were in Westeros you were iron clad and being taken for punishment by our King’s father. It seems your traitorous ways have proven deep if you have aligned yourself with this foreign woman who calls herself Queen.”

“Lady Lyanna,” Jorah bows his head. “You have grown since I last saw you as a babe in your mother’s arms. This foreign Queen has earned my respect by freeing the slaves that I had created. I learned from my misdeeds and follow her as a reminder that no man should live in chains.”

“So she freed some slaves,” Lord Glover stands. “Lady Lyanna has a point. For someone who puts an emphasis on her dragons, we don’t see these-“ With that a large whooshing and a great flapping of wings can be heard. A shadow crosses over the windows blocking out the sun for just a moment. Screaming echoes from the courtyard outside and a great crashing of talons landing on hard earth shakes the dust from the rafters.

“You were saying?” Daenerys asks as the guards outside begin yelling. “Jorah, Varys, please see that the guards outside do not get themselves killed by Drogon.” With that Jorah and Varys exit the Great Hall quickly.

“Lord Glover,” Jon begins again. “I have seen that Queen Daenerys’ heart is good. She is not as her father was. She-“ He stops and looks at her. “She’s willing to sacrifice what is closest to her in order to do the right thing. She isn’t willing to kill innocent people in order to get what she wants. She came to help us.” Jorah re-enters at the back at nods as confirmation that the dying sounds outside indicate that everything seems fine for now.

“Conquering is not saving. She only means to earn our loyalty in order to take her Throne of Swords back. Once she has that she’ll force you to bend the knee, or worse.” Lord Dustin speaks up.

“I will not.” Daenerys answers forcefully as she takes a step closer to Jon slipping her hand into his. “I will wed your King in the North.”

A stunned silence washes through the hall. Jorah’s eyes meet Daenerys’, a shock of disbelief before his face smoothes to acceptance. He casts his eyes down but stays in the room. She looks at the Lords, waiting for someone to argue.

“Aye,” Jon answers dragging his gaze back to the Northerners, daring them to argue.

“A political marriage makes the most sense.” Sansa speaks up before the Northern Lords are able to react. “It will strengthen the country and the bonds between the Houses. Any ill-will us Northerners feel will be put aside.”

“If you expect us to think that this Dragon Queen hasn’t used some sorcery to convince our King to marry what’s between her legs, well then-“ Lord Cerwyn stands and angrily stares at Daenerys. Her spine straightens and she bites her tongue to prevent from spitting a fiery dismissal.

Jon’s rage billows and he slams his hand down on the table before Sansa.

“You WILL NOT speak about your future Queen in that manner! Belay the disrespect you have just afforded YOUR KING!” His heavy breathing is loud and the Great Hall goes silent. He drops his head and takes a couple of slow breaths before he stands back up.

“Now I know that The Targaryens reign ended in blood for all our families. There is no making right what was wronged. None of that was done by her, a babe not even born at the time of her father’s demise. If I, a Stark, can find it in myself to not place blame on Queen Daenerys, then I expect each and every one of you to do the same. She didn’t have to let us mine the Dragonglass. She didn’t have to come to Winterfell. She didn’t have to bring her dragons. She chose to. And I choose… to marry her.” Jon steps back and looks at the room, waiting for any further rebuttals. Some of the men nod, some shake their head, some merely wait to see if there are any further announcements.

When no one comes forward he continues, “Does anyone else have anything further to discuss at this time?” Either they’re too mad to talk or they have nothing further to say. “Aye, then I will depart to speak with my Advisors and rest from the journey here. If you have anything further to speak to me of, inform my sister and she will determine if my judgement is needed.”

With that he offers Daenerys his arm and they walk through the crowd of Northern Lords out to the courtyard, their Advisors following. The cold air is refreshing. She hadn’t realized how the North Men had riled her and set her blood boiling. Jon relaxes as he lets out a deep breath.

“That went about as well as expected.” Dany sighs as she gathers her wits.

“Aye, the best we can do now is prove that this union is truly good for the North.” His eyes glance around the courtyard, forcing hers to do the same. The small folk of the castle are tracking the couple with their scrutinizing gazes. Dany does not find this disconcerting as she has always been under near constant scrutiny at different points in her life. Jon however, seems to dislike it and rolls his shoulders uncomfortably.

“The stares will lessen,” She whispers squeezing his hand. “Eventually they will grow used to our presence together and will stop gazing like doe eyed girls.” He chuckles.

“I hope you’re right.” He stops as they arrive at some stairs leading up to the covered walkways. “Arya will show you to your room. I have some business to take care of. I will find you soon.” He brings her hand up to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he kisses first the knuckles and then the palm. She lightly rubs his cheek and smiles before pulling her hand away and nodding at him to take his leave. S

he decides that she liked the privacy and close quarters of the ship much more than the open air and watchful gazes of Winterfell. She watches her King walk away with Davos before her eyes are drawn to the small female that looks so much like him now standing in front of her.

“Your quarters are this way, Your Grace.” Arya says as she turns and heads up the stairs, Daenerys following close behind. They fall in line making their way through the walkways of Winterfell.

“Lady Arya,” Daenerys breaks the awkward pause.

“I’m no Lady.” Arya interrupts before Dany can finish her sentence. “Sansa is a Lady.”

“Then who are you?” Daenerys asks.

“I am no one.” Dany stops and looks at her discerningly, searching her gaze, trying to understand this seemingly lost girl.

“You can’t be no one. You are Jon’s and Sansa’s sister. You are Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn’s daughter. You are a wolf of Winterfell. You are an executioner. You are someone.” Daenerys turns watching as Arya does the same, both of them walking the same pace. “You can’t pretend to be no one because it’s easier than being someone. You must be who you were meant to be. Your brother has accepted that he couldn’t just be a bastard of the Night’s Watch. He became the King in the North because he had to. It’s not an easy thing to do, but it’s what must be done in order for us all to survive.”

Arya is quiet until they stop in front of a door. “I am still not a Lady.” She says forcefully. Daenerys smirks and bows her head once.

“As you say Arya.” Dany looks at the door. “This is my room?”

“Yes,” Arya turns her head, looking to the door at the end of the hall. “That is Jon’s.” Arya smirks before stepping past Dany and heading back the way they came. Daenerys watches her walk away and shakes her head slightly before opening the door and stepping into the room, Missandei, Tyrion and Varys entering after her.

“I can’t tell if she likes me.” Daenerys muses as she takes off her gloves and cloak and sets them on the small table in front of the window. The room is dark but the fire in the hearth makes it cozy. The four-poster bed looks inviting and the curtains, furnishings and rugs are good quality and condition. She wonders if all of the guest rooms are outfitted such as this one.

“I daresay she does.” Tyrion muses as he pours himself a glass of wine. “She didn’t pull her sword or knife on you. But the Stark children are an odd bunch, so who’s to say?”

“Your Grace,” Varys says. “I apologize if this is out of line. But what made the prospect of a marital alliance a viable option?”

Daenerys looks at Tyrion. “Can we trust him?”

Tyrion narrows his eyes at Varys. “I believe so. I remember when I told him I was marrying my niece to Theon Greyjoy in order to test that same thought. The information did not leak then, just as I believe it is safe now.”

“That was a mummer’s lie Tyrion. I could see through that in an instant.” Varys rolls his eyes and looks back at the Queen expectantly.

Daenerys pauses for just a moment, letting the weight of the information settle. “Jon Snow is not a Snow at all.” She says coolly as she takes a seat across from him. “He is a true born Targaryen.” Varys blanches, a look of confusion crosses his face.

“How can that be?” He muses and leans forward with interest.

“Jon’s mother was Lady Lyanna Stark. Lord Eddard found her in the Tower of Joy in Dorne bleeding out from having just given birth to Jon. She made her brother promise to claim the child as his own to protect him from the vengeance of his friend Robert.”

“Ah yes, it makes sense then why Ned refused to take part in Robert’s assassination attempt on you when he found out you were with Khal Drogo’s child.” Varys sits back in his chair deep in thought as Daenerys’ mind is sent reeling.

“He what?” She asks a little dumbly.

Varys looks up at her from his thoughts and nods. “Yes, Lord Eddard stepped down from being Robert Baratheon’s Hand. It angered the King so much, I thought perhaps Robert himself would kill Ned. But Ned stood strong and almost returned to Winterfell. Robert ordered your assassination anyway and after Jaime Lannister found out about Catelyen Stark taking this one,” he points to Tyrion,” Hostage, he killed Ned’s men and wounded Ned. The King eventually somehow convinced Ned to stay. It’s a pity he did, otherwise Ned might still be alive and the War of the Five Kings would not have ripped this country apart as it has.”

There’s a heavy silence in the room as Daenerys’ head spins. She hadn’t realized how deep the treachery went in Westeros. How much damage had taken place because of a Mad King and a doomed love.

“Claiming Jon as his bastard was a slight to his honor for many years, even though it was possibly the most honorable thing he’s done. It must have made him realize that even after 16 years, King Robert would still kill Jon if he’d known of his true lineage.” A deeper respect for the former Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North settles in Daenerys’ person. Perhaps Jon is more like Ned than she guessed. “Your Grace,” Varys continues. “Again I ask, how does his illegitimate birth cause a roomful of your Advisors to agree to a marriage between the two of you.”

“Because Varys,” Tyrion snaps. “He is legitimate. Samwell Tarly discovered evidence of an annulment between Rhaegar and Elia as well as a secret ceremony that took place between the Targaryen Prince and the Northern Beauty.”

“Well that is an interesting development.” Varys ponders. “So that would mean that his claim to the throne is technically stronger than our Queens?”

“Yes, but he’s convinced me he doesn’t want the Throne.” Dany answers as she stands and wanders to look out the window. “He says it is mine.”

“As is his heart.” Missandei teases.

Daenerys turns to look at her with wide eyes. “So he says.”

“Please do not tell me you think he is not truthful about his affections.” Missandei smirks. “We have all seen the near constant looks exchange one another. Not to mention hearing the nights you shared on the ship.”

Daenerys blushes and turns back to her Advisors. “You know?”

“Don’t be so surprised Your Grace,” Tyrion’s voice echoes into his cup as he takes a drink. “A ship’s walls aren’t exactly sound proof. At one point, I didn’t know if it was the howling of the winds I heard, or the howling of the White Wolf.” A blush rising to her cheeks forces Daenerys to turn to look back out the window.

“I do agree though,” Varys says. “About a marital alliance. Perhaps if a marriage broke this country, it could also remake it.” Daenerys ponders the thought as she watches her King sparring in the training yards below.


End file.
